


Retreat

by epkitty



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, First Meetings, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-28
Updated: 2011-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:32:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epkitty/pseuds/epkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the path to recovery, Arwen seeks healing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retreat

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Tarot card 03, The Empress. Warning for original poetry; the poem included is one that I wrote in college.

Arwen wasn't sure how far she'd ridden, only that it was the farthest she'd ever been from home without an escort.

Her father would be furious.

She didn't care.

Her father would be worried sick.

She… there was nothing she could do about that now. She was tired, more tired than she could remember being since childhood.

Pity for the poor beast that bore her was the only thing that could have persuaded Arwen to dismount, soothing the horse with whispered spells as she led it to the winding stream in the Old Forest.

The horse dipped its head and Arwen fell to her knees with no concept of how she might rise again.

The heavy breathing of her mount and the murmuring water was all she heard as she closed her eyes and let her head fall upon a pillow of spongy moss.

The anger, the pain, the fear, all seemed to drain away as sleep claimed her.

= = = = =

"In rambling hollows dreamers rest  
So far and distant deep  
Snuggled, burrowed in their nest  
So content, their weary sleep"

Arwen woke to a world hushed with the time of twilight, her horse grazing nearby, and a lovely voice clear as a bell singing to her across the cooling air.

"But here’s the time the fairy host comes  
All in lines and circling crowds  
Singing their song, beating their drums  
To nip within the sleepers’ shrouds"

Arwen sat up, gathering her cloak about her, eyes searching the shadows for the woman whose voice had wakened her.

"Such teasing creatures! How cruel they are!  
To lay in wait in sleepers’ dreams  
Sprinkling fleas and pouring tar  
Ah! Those fair folk and their wicked schemes!"

With a little effort, Arwen got her feet under her and stood on shaky legs, arm stretched out to a tree to support her.

"So when the dreamers awake that morning,  
Dazed, with memories half-remembered,  
They wonder if it’s madness or warning  
That their sleep should be so fearfully rendered."

Arwen stumbled toward the stream, still weak with mourning and fogged by sleep. "Hello?"

"Goodness, and here you are," the voice said.

The woman who emerged from the shadows was unlike any Arwen had ever seen. She appeared human, but stood as tall as any Elf maiden, and was clad all in green with a belt of plain cord girting her waist. Her gold hair gleamed as though the sun still shone upon it, though Arien had already sailed beyond the distant hills.

"You're in terrible trouble," the lady said, lifting her skirts to step over the gathering dew. "Come, my dear, and your horse will follow, I've no doubt. There's no need to fear me. I am Goldberry. I've been expecting you, ever since your father sent word that you were heading my way."

"My father?"

"He's in a terrible state as it is, you know, and now his only daughter riding off only the Valar know where… Well, you're here now, and no sooner could I have expected you; the wind must have been at your back the whole way. Come, take my hand, my child. I'll get some broth into you and set you to bed so you can sleep. This isn't any old forest, you know. You've not likely met trees such as ours; it's best I found you before night truly fell. Ah, the horse follows. That is well. Tom is off on some adventure or other - though he takes leave of our home less and less as the years wear on - so it will just be you and I."

Arwen blindly followed her through the wood and into the dear little hut that presided over a humble clearing of wildflowers bowing in the easy wind. The stars shone just as brilliantly as they did in the sky above her home, and she was slightly comforted by this.

Within the homely little place, Arwen was sat upon a cushioned chair and made to wait only a little as the kettle heated in the fireplace. With the idle fascination of the over-weary, Arwen gazed about the floor, everywhere set with bowls of clear water bursting with the flowering plants of rivers.

The broth that Goldberry set before her was warm and delicious as sunlight on the skin in spring, and Arwen drank it all.

"There, dear one, that is well," Goldberry said, lifting her with a hand under her elbow to guide her into the next room. Goldberry helped her undress until Arwen stood nude in the moonlight from the window. Goldberry washed away the dirt of her travels with a warm washcloth and Arwen only stood as if in a dream as she was wrapped in a long robe and tucked into the wide bed with kisses to her closed eyes.

"Don't leave me," Arwen whispered.

After a pause, Goldberry closed the door and exchanged her dress for a nightshirt before joining Arwen under the covers.

"I'm so frightened," Arwen confessed, resting her head on Goldberry's breast. "I'm so alone."

"You are only alone because you have left your family behind."

Arwen cried, her tears seeping into the cloth of Goldberry's white shift as she clutched at the body next to her. "They left me! Mother left us! She's gone forever! My brothers left! They left to chase down vengeance! And I don't remember the last time my father even looked at me!"

"Oh, my dear one," Goldberry said. "I've no doubt you need to heal. And to heal you need to sleep. So sleep, my darling. Sleep."

"I'm too tired to sleep," Arwen cried out, half laughing, her nose pressed between Goldberry's breasts. "I don't even know what I want..."

"Do you want me to soothe you?" Goldberry asked, passing a hand over Arwen's brow, tucking midnight-dark hair behind the softly pointed ear.

"Anything…" Arwen begged. "Anything."

"Oh, I was wrong," Goldberry said, kissing her. "You are no child."

"Why do you kiss me?" Arwen asked.

"Have you never dallied with a maid, dear?"

"I…"

"It can be most exhilarating," Goldberry said, her hand shuffling between the covers to lift the hem of Arwen's nightdress. "Do I go too far, you tell me."

Arwen shivered and pressed her warm body against Goldberry's, taking comfort in the curves of her, the softness like her own, and warmth like new fire. And Goldberry kissed her with that same warmth, stoking that fire, loving and healing in one.

Arwen had never needed so badly to be touched, to have someone with her to chase away the evils by creating joys of their own.

Goldberry touched her face and ears, her hands and breasts. Goldberry's fingers danced over her belly, and then lower, petting her in the most delightful fashion.

Arwen panted and her eyes fell shut. She flung one leg over Goldberry, pressing herself against a strong thigh as the white fingers danced over her. Arwen pressed her face into Goldberry's neck, teeth biting the soft flesh there as she cried.

"It is well, it is well," Goldberry told her as Arwen spent herself in fury and love, and dropped away to sleep almost instantly.

= = = = =

Nearly a fortnight Arwen stayed with Goldberry in the little hut in the Old Forest, learning of herbs and of animals, and also learning of bodies and love, and Arwen thanked her in every way she knew, for Goldberry had guided her onto the road of healing, and much had passed between them that would not soon be forgotten.

When the day came for her to leave, Arwen removed the fine chain she wore about her waist, shaped in the likeness of gold flag lilies set with the pale-blue eyes of forget-me-nots, and gave it to Goldberry as a lasting gift.

= = = = =

The End


End file.
